The Gothic Revival 1 sky cycled light, dark a bright tide of watercolor filled and emptied itself across the horizon black ink spilled and dilute amber and gold winters dried and heaved the air potent silence expanded forever ____________________________________________________________________________ 2 the sunken green roof of childhood preserved half its luster I exited the car and shut the door, my eyes studying its texture my son kicked a rock on the curb, the way he looked up at me reminded me of my younger brother, the same tilted wince "You lived here?" he asked aghast, but knowing the answer I breathed slowly and stared into the sullied windows searching for any spare sign my life has not run out _____________________________________________________________________________ 3 the truth is far worse than anything we could imagine the sublime is a heartless cold death appearances are reality _____________________________________________________________________________ 4 unseen seeds lay dormant waiting to meld with the earth a gravid world of activity swollen with blind desire sedges, rushes, wildflowers shake serenely, or hold still rays cut the leaves and branches, moss spreads beneath roots reach deep, coiling, vining, twisting, interlacing below water in sap out and the sky spread scattered sunlight since the beginning of time while I am trapped in this body
Bill Kurz is a local writer living in Maryland. He writes at the crucible of North American and South American fiction. You can find more of his work in Sound and Fury, Remington Review, and PLOS One.
Image: Mudna House – abandoned house in Brisbane by darkday under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license via Wikimedia Commons.